


we are still masters of our fate

by hapsburgs



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Dottie/Peggy friendship, F/F, Multi, Post-Series AU, and exasperated babysitter!peggy, complete fluff, featuring actual golden retriever puppy dottie underwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapsburgs/pseuds/hapsburgs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dottie Underwood joins S.H.I.E.L.D. and it is surprisingly not a disaster. Well, not a complete one, anyway. </p>
<p>(In which Peggy Carter tries to normalize Dottie Underwood and fails spectacularly)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we are still masters of our fate

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to rita (talesofnorth) for the prompt, I love you uwu. also what do you mean i can't use winston churchill quotes as titles

There is nothing odd about Agent Sousa handing Peggy Carter her morning coffee, the day’s Wall Street Journal, and updated mission reports. What _is_ odd, however, is that he stops her strong stride on the way to her office, a hand on her shoulder, and this even makes _Peggy_ blink in surprise.

“Agent 326 is in your office.” Sousa informs her, and Peggy takes a sip of her scalding coffee to hide her shock.

“I thought she was in our Chinatown location.” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, trying to ignore her burning tongue.

“There was a little... _incident_.” Sousa shrugs, and Peggy sighs, rolling her eyes. “It’s all in the file.”

Peggy murmurs a brief thanks before pushing through her office door, setting her files and coffee down on her desk and taking a seat with a long breath before addressing the lounging blonde across from her.

“Christ, Dottie, what _happened_ now?” Peggy barely hides her irritation, and Dottie scoffs.

“Who ever said anything happened?” Dottie counters with a small smile, but Peggy’s look of annoyance cuts her short. “Moon Yi is dead.”

“Dead? How on earth did that happen?” Peggy asks, and Dottie shrinks down in her seat, eyes flicking away from hers. “ _Dottie_.”

“I was...not aware Americans had such a low tolerance for torture.”

“He was our only lead!” Peggy balks, rubbing her head. “And now he’s what? Sliced to bits?”

“Asphyxiated.” Dottie corrects her.

“Oh, bloody hell.” Peggy shakes her head. “Dottie, when I recruited you for S.H.I.E.L.D., I made it quite clear that what we do in America is quite different than the protocol in the Soviet Union.”

“I know, but sometimes I forget.” Dottie pouts, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, and it is genuinely adorable but also meaningless.

“I know you are trying very hard, and you have made wonderful progress. You are doing good work here.” Peggy says sincerely - _Positive Reinforcement_ , is what the doctors said. “But just please be more careful in the future.”

“Of course, Peggy! I won’t disappoint you!” Dottie springs to her feet, and for a moment with her bouncy blonde hair and enormous smile she looks just like a Golden Retriever. As she bounds out of her office, slamming the door hard enough for her wall fixtures to rattle, Peggy rests her head on her desk with a slight groan.

Literally _everyone_ who became a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. after the destruction of the SSR told Peggy that bringing Dottie on would be an absolute and complete mistake. Peggy, however, hired her anyway, and as director of S.H.I.E.L.D., her decision was not questioned. And while it was not a _complete_ mistake, hiring Dottie, not a day went by where Peggy did not question her decision. Dottie, tentatively stable and a bit too trigger happy, was hard to control and even harder to punish because Dottie, with her easy smiles and sad eyes, seemed to shrug off any consequences to her actions.

After continuing to rattle violently for several more seconds, one of Peggy's framed photographs crashes to the floor, glass shards scattering across the floor.

Again, Peggy groans.

* * *

"Look at them, those simpering, unhappy fools." Dottie takes a drag of her cigarette, exhaling the smoke elegantly. "See the panic and nervousness in her eyes? She wants him, loves him, but is afraid, too. She's too jittery; wondering if there's another girl. Probably is, too - he's too relaxed, his eyes are wandering this way and that. He doesn't even notice her heartbreak; thinks he's outsmarting her, the idiot."

"Christ, Russia, we're trying to celebrate Sousa's birthday." Agent Thompson laughs, waving down a waiter from their small booth at their favorite jazz club downtown. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and booze, the lighting low enough to create a sort of intimacy and privacy between the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

"Can we go one night without psychoanalyzing strangers, please?" Peggy practically begs Dottie, because Dottie, even though nearly always correct in her assumptions, had gotten them kicked out of too many bars in the past with her habit.

Dottie shrugs slightly, a graceful gesture, before taking a sip of her drink.

"Is this what qualifies as smalltalk with Leviathan?" Thompson smirks, but with a muffled sound under the table, he's turning red in pain and nearly crying.

"Dottie, you have to stop kicking Agent Thompson in the crotch." Peggy halfheartedly orders, trying not to laugh.

"Only when he stops being an ass." Dottie replies humorlessly.

"Oh, he'll never stop that." Sousa gasps between loud laughs, and Dottie's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"You find my assault of Thompson amusing?"

"Oh, yes. Very much."

"And it's making you happy? On your birthday?" Dottie's intensity is both funny and unsettling.

"Yes?"

Dottie gives another swift kick to Thompson's crotch, who had been beginning to recover. With this blow, he keels over so hard he slams his head on the table. Sousa laughs uproariously.

"What are you doing, Dottie?" Peggy blinks.

"Making Agent Sousa happy on his birthday." Dottie answers, as if it was obvious.

"And now everyone is staring at us." Peggy mumbles. "Alright, it's time for us to go. We'll leave you two to your... _gentlemen's night_."

After murmuring a quick _Happy birthday_ to Sousa, Peggy practically jerks Dottie to her feet and drags her out of the bar.

"Why do we always have to leave early?" Dottie pouts, trying to keep up with Peggy's hard pace.

Peggy rolls her eyes with a huff. "Honestly, it's like I'm dealing with a ten year old."

* * *

Life at Howard Stark's mansion is perfect - well, _nearly_ perfect. Jarvis, at the very least, knew how to keep to himself. _Dottie_ , the newest addition to their little housing arrangement, on the other hand - well, Dottie didn't quite know the meaning of privacy.

"Don't mind me." Dottie announces as she steps into the kitchen, ignoring Peggy and Angie, locked in a kiss against the counter, flushed and panting.

" _Jesus_ ," Angie groans, breaking away from Peggy to watch Dottie over the Brit's shoulder.

"I'm just getting breakfast." Dottie insists, pouring herself a bowl of cereal. Just when Peggy moves in to kiss Angie again, however, Dottie turns on the coffee machine, and the harsh grinding of metal is terribly unerotic.

"Would you mind leaving, Dottie?" Peggy seethes through her teeth, and it's not really a question.

"Where else am I going to eat breakfast?" Dottie takes a loud bite of her cornflakes, taking a seat at the counter. Her blonde hair is falling all over her face, her bare feet are folded neatly under her, and she pushes her reading glasses a little farther up her nose.

"She'll leave soon enough, English." Angie soothes her, running a hand down her tensed arm. "What is she going to do, stay and watch?"

Dottie laughs at that. Peggy goes back to kissing Angie, attempting to ignore the Russian behind her, but the _chomp chomp_ of cornflakes is extremely distracting.

"Oh, Peggy, you can kiss her better than that! I would know." Dottie scoffs. "Honestly, you two are so vanilla."

And _that_ is the last straw. "Dottie, I swear to god -"

"Pull her hair, bite her, spank her or something. Christ, you two are dull." The blonde's nose wrinkles a bit in annoyance.

"If you don't leave this _instant_ , I will go over there and strangle you myself." Peggy orders, tensing.

"Fine, fine, I'm going." Dottie says airily, rising to her feet. "But can I grab some -"

"No."

Peggy returns her attentions to Angie, hands wandering under the waitress' thin shirt.

Behind them, Dottie makes a sound akin to retching before waltzing away, still chomping delightfully on her cornflakes.

* * *

"Right, so after careful evaluation, we've decided that in East Germany -"

"Sorry to interrupt!" A quiet voice calls from the door, and the entirety of the meeting room looks up at the new addition to the briefing. "I have coffee."

"Of course, Evelyn." Peggy relaxes with a smile. "Go ahead, please."

The young woman enters the room, balancing at least eight coffees in her hands. Her dark, wavy hair is swept out of her face in a simple ponytail, and her tight skirt earns more than a few glances from the male agents in the room.

 

And then Peggy notices that Dottie - well, Dottie has flushed bright red, and can't keep her eyes off of Evelyn, shifting nervously in her seat and Peggy would bet that if she was closer, she could see her pupils widening.

"Dottie, this is our new secretary, Evelyn Scott. I don't believe you two have met?" Peggy introduces them, not bothering to hide her smile.

"No, we haven't - it's a pleasure." Evelyn grins shyly, but Dottie just stares at her dumbly. "Black, two sugars, right?"

Evelyn hands Dottie her coffee, fingers brushing against each other for a brief second, but it is enough for Dottie to completely lose function; she drops her coffee, the scalding liquid spilling all over her lap.

"Christ, are you alright?" Peggy stands in alarm.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry." Evelyn blushes pink, but Dottie doesn't do much of anything. In fact, she is still staring at Evelyn, seemingly unaware of the burning coffee covering her skirt.

"Oh." Dottie blinks, suddenly becoming aware of the situation. "I'm fine. It's not...your fault." Her voice is barely a whisper, and Peggy exchanges a look with Sousa and Thompson.

"I should go." Evelyn pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in embarrassment, and Dottie looks like she's about to faint. "It was nice meeting you, Dottie."

"A pleasure." Dottie echoes as the secretary leaves with a sway of her hips.

"She's pretty." Peggy smirks after Evelyn exits.

" _Beautiful._ " Dottie murmurs absentmindedly. Sousa merely laughs, Thompson whistles, and Peggy has never seen someone flush so red as Dottie.

"Moving on," Peggy tries to steer the conversation back to the task at hand, but Dottie's eyes remain on the door for the rest of the meeting.

* * *

"I have a gift for you!" Dottie practically sings as she prances into the office one morning, with a smile so wide it takes up half of her face.

"If it's not food, I'm not interested." Thompson doesn't look up from his paper, and Dottie sticks out her tongue at him behind his back.

"Well?" Peggy prompts her, because usually Dottie shows up an hour late to work - never on time with presents.

Dottie raises her hand in 'wait here', before darting into the hallway to get her present.

"Surprise!" Dottie emerges from the hall.

And it's certainly not food with her.

Instead, it's a grown man, bound and gagged and unconscious, limp as a noodle. "It's Isaac Klinger! The Hydra scientist you asked me to find!"

Sousa spits out his coffee.

"And you brought him _here_?" Peggy blinks in complete disbelief, because honestly how is this even happening right now?

"Where else was I going to bring him?" Dottie shrugs, slamming the poor man down on Thompson's desk. "Why aren't you happy?"

"We don't bring unconscious criminals into the office!" Peggy nearly shouts and she regrets the flash of hurt in Dottie's eyes.

"Well, you never said -"

"I didn't think it needed to be said." Peggy places her head in her hands. "Did anyone see you?"

"No! I mean, not many." Dottie blinks.

"Peggy, I think he's actually dead." Sousa looks up from the body he has been peering at.

"Oh, he is. He wouldn't stop making noise on the way, and I guess he must have had a heart condition -"

"Can we please get the dead German off my desk?" Thompson pleas, just as Evelyn happens to enter.

"I have the Defense minister - oh, is everything alright?" Evelyn stops in her tracks, fiddling with the papers in her hands, as she observes the group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents huddled around a man on Agent Thompson's desk.

"I got you a body!" Dottie blurts, turning bright pink. Sousa winces and Peggy stifles a nervous laugh because Dottie is officially the worst flirt ever. "Do you like it?"

" _Oh_." Evelyn pales, and looks fairly horrified, to be quite honest, but she regains her composure easily. "It's lovely, Dottie, thank you." At that, she smiles slightly and lays a hand on Dottie's arm in reassurance, and Dottie looks like she's basically died and gone to heaven. "I'll put the Defense Minister on hold."

Dottie finally takes in a sharp breath as Evelyn saunters off.

"Dottie, can you please remove the body from Thompson's desk?" Peggy asks in exasperation.

"Fine," Dottie grumbles, lifting the corpse with ease. "Down the garbage chute he goes."

" _Dottie, no._ "

* * *

Now, self defense training with Dottie was always a highlight of Peggy's week. She learned from Dottie how to add some more finesse to her fighting style, while Dottie learned the value of a simple punch to the gut. **  
**

But today, Dottie seems terribly distracted, and it is only when she's firmly on top of Peggy, pinning her wrists above her and has a knife to her throat that she speaks.

"How did you know that you liked Angie?" Dottie asks, barely panting, eyebrows knit in confusion.

 

"Can we _not_ do this now?" Peggy gasps, trying to wriggle away, but Dottie has a firm grip and isn't even really paying that much attention.

"I mean, you wouldn't be sleeping with her if you didn't _like_ her, you're not that type."

"Well," Peggy coughs, because this is certainly an interesting turn of events. "I just sort of _knew_. Whenever I saw her, my stomach sort of flipped and I couldn't quite breathe. I cared about her opinion more than anything else, and...everything was better with her around." She smiles softly to herself. "Is this about Evelyn?"

"How do you know about that?" Dottie blanches, unknowingly pressing the knife harder against Peggy.

"God, everyone knows, Dottie. You're not particularly subtle."

"Does _Evelyn_ know?" Dottie whispers in horror, and it's kind of cute, how easily this Soviet superspy is unsettled by the shy secretary.

"Well, she'd have to be blind not to." Peggy murmurs, and Dottie nearly squeaks in embarrassment. "So you _like_ her, then?"

"I mean, I don't - It's kind of...I didn't think...She's...I just...um..." Dottie stutters, turning pink, and Peggy smiles in reassurance.

"Why don't you ask her out?"

"On a date?" Dottie looks terrified at the thought. "But what if she's already going steady with someone else? I'd have to kill them, I suppose."

"Okay, that is the exact _opposite_ of what you would do." Peggy amends. "And there is no harm in asking."

"But how do I ask?" Dottie finally moves back to sit on her haunches, dropping the knife, and allowing Peggy to sit up.

"Just ask if she wants to go to the cinema." Peggy rubs her neck.

"Like the one I gassed with Doctor Fenhoff?"

"On second thought, how about a restaurant?"  

"What if she says no?" Dottie whispers, and Peggy has never seen anyone look so nervous in her life. No doubt Dottie didn't ask her out beforehand because she didn't think Evelyn would agree.

Peggy sighs, and offers Dottie a small smile. "She's not going to say no." At this, Dottie finally exhales, relaxing.

"Dottie?"

"Hm?"

"Can you get off of me now?"

* * *

One evening, a few weeks later, Peggy finds her office door locked. She jiggles the doorknob to no avail, and to her surprise, she can hear some sort of _noise_ coming from inside, but the door is too thick to make out _what_. **  
**

Peggy fishes her spare key out of her purse, annoyed, and when she swings the door open - well, she was not quite ready for the scene that greeted her. More specifically, Dottie and Evelyn, both in states of undressed, locked in a rather _compromising_ position on her desk.

"Don't mind me." Peggy announces with a grin. The pair break apart from their rather heated kiss, hair a mess and lipstick smudged.

" _Do you mind_?" Dottie scoffs as Peggy takes a seat at her desk. Evelyn has the decency to at least blush, but Dottie merely looks annoyed.

"Where else am I supposed to work?" Peggy raises an eyebrow, and the glare Dottie sends her is hilarious.

"Ignore her, Dottie." Evelyn turns Dottie back to face her, placing hot kisses over her jaw, but she sends Peggy a shy smirk over Dottie's shoulder.

"You two are so vanilla." Peggy muses after a few long moments. "Pull her hair, bite her, spank her, just do _something_."

" _Peggy_ ," Dottie warns, but the last syllable morphs into a rather explicit moan, and Peggy does not want to think about what Evelyn's hands are doing between Dottie's legs, underneath her skirt.

"Fine, I'll go." Peggy rises to her feet to leave, but when she reaches the door she gives Dottie a quick thumbs up. She merely rolls her eyes in return, but there's a nice, shy smile on her face that betrays her true feelings.

Peggy exits, shutting the door, but she can just make out Evelyn's voice on the other side.

**  
**"You know, those weren't particularly _bad_ ideas."


End file.
